Last night we went downtown to watch the Cherry Blossom drop (it's Macon, of course, it's a Cherry Blossom). Last night was the first time we've been out for New Year's Eve since our trip to Paris five years ago. I know, I know, we need to get out more. Minutes before midnight I closed my eyes and tilted my head toward the stars. I have so many hopes for 2011, and more that a few sorries that I'd like to leave behind. Out with the old and in with the good, I say. Let's start this year right.
I don't want to chuck 2010 though. The truth is that it was an amazing year for us, and the highlights are many. Grace completed her first year of elementary school (how did she get to be so big!). I had a four month freelance job (the longest and most rewarding in recent memory) that funded our summer adventure. Julia embraced being three with gusto ("No, I not a dictator!"), and Craig managed to push his research even further, publishing with and engaging undergraduates in ways he never imagined. Our year ended on a rough note (two bronchial infections for my parents with a long, long recovery), but I can't help but be incredibly hopeful for 2011.
However you celebrated, wherever you were, I hope you rang in the New Year with high hopes and love. Happy New Year everyone, from us.
We exited I-90 onto Wyoming Hwy 14 early in the morning on the 26th. We were headed north to Devil's Tower. The clouds were low and misty on the rolling hills and cattle land, and we couldn't help but feel the difference in our landscape. We had said our goodbyes to the mountains when we descended out of the Bighorn Range the day before. As we crested a small hill and caught sight of Devil's Tower, with dark clouds rimming the top, I understood how one might experience a sense of foreboding when seeing the tower for the first time, but it was hard for me to identify with that sensation with these two pixies in Craig's arms.
We made our way to the visitor's center and then started our hike around the base of the tower. During the month of June, there is a voluntary cessation of climbing activities so that native american groups can hold ceremonies. Being voluntary, not all climbers observe this break in activity. I'm sure the numbers were down, but we still saw quite a few ascending. We watched as they moved, hand over hand, up the columns of basalt.
The trail around the base is paved, which made for easy hiking for the girls. There were also lots of stops with built in binoculars, and we all enjoyed watching birds circle the summit. I think it took us a little over an hour to complete the loop and then it was back in the car and back to I-90 as we made our way into the Black Hills of South Dakota.
Like the stretch of highway between Yellowstone and Cody, this portion of I-90 was very familiar to me as well. Half of the field camp I attended and taught was spent in the Black Hills mapping metamorphic and igneous rocks. For anyone that's been to this part of South Dakota, you know how magnificent the geology can be. You also know how terribly touristy it is as well. Keystone, the town closest to Mount Rushmore, reminds me a lot of Pigeon Forge, Tennnessee (home of Dollywood and other Appalachian mountain tourist traps). I'm all for making the natural treasures of our nation available to everyone, I'm just not a fan of the commercialization that crowds these spaces. Thank goodness for national parks.
In any case, with rain spitting on us from above, we arrived at Mt Rushmore by mid afternoon.
There have been so many changes to this monument that I didn't recognize any of the old facilities. This is a good thing. Fifteen years ago, I didn't think Mt. Rushmore was much a monument, and now, every part of the visitor experience is geared toward celebrating our nation and the presidents whose faces are carved into granite. Grace thought it was cool because she had learned about Mt. Rushmore in school. Julia thought it was cool because it seemed so civilized.
Getting out of Rushmore (and all the tourist crap/traffic that surrounds it) took us more time than we would have liked. We still wanted to see the Badlands before we called it a night, so we had to cover a fair amount of ground in a short period of time. We stopped in Wall, South Dakota (home of Wall Drug, another tourist wasteland) to grab some sub sandwiches, and then continued onto the park for dinner.
I love the badlands. Chalk that up to spending six years as a fossil preparator. Badlands=fossils. Badlands also equals beauty.
I feel right when I'm in badlands.
We took the long route through the park, stopping to see fossil exhibits and prairie dog villages. I could have stayed for days. We only had three hours. As we left the park, I took one final picture: our hats resting on the dashboard. I've had that field hat for 15 years. It's been to India, Pakistan, and Turkey, and yet, this summer, this trip, was the best time I've ever had. The memories we made as a family are priceless. We changed during those three and a half weeks. We grew individually and as a whole. I'm so thankful to Craig for making the trip possible, and to Grace and Julia for being game.
We spent two more nights on the road, and we learned just how much we don't like to stay in hotels. Finally on the 28th, we arrived in DeForest, Wisconsin, where my Aunt Bev and Uncle Dave opened their home to us. It had been over three weeks since my kids had been in a house, and boy, they were ready. Bev and Dave have grand kids, so their house has toys. Julia and Grace were THRILLED. At bedtime that night, we gave Julia a choice: sleep in a bed or in second cousin Mason's crib (note that she's been out of a crib for 9 months). No contest. She wanted the crib. I think she probably would have stayed at Bev and Dave's indefinitely, but we had a few more miles to go.
On June 29th, we boarded a ferry to take us from Milwaukee, Wisconsin to Muskegon, Michigan. Months earlier, when we were planning our trip, the girls were most excited about the ferry ride. At that time, they couldn't conceive of mountain ranges and wildlife out the window. Regardless of everything we had seen and done, the ferry was still a major highlight though. The girls couldn't wait for the ferry to arrive (and had an even harder time waiting to board).
We finally boarded a little after lunch and three hours later we made land, with Grandma and Grandpa waving from the shore.
While we still had three weeks left of our vacation (divided between Michigan and Indiana), the western part of our trip was done, and likewise, this travelogue is concluded. I'll upload the pictures from visits with the grandparents at another time. My apologies for taking such a long time to finish this series. Who would have thought that we would be so busy when we returned? Of course, we were busy. School started for everyone except me with all associated responsibilities. Whole weeks flashed by in an instant, it seems, and I marvel that we had such a long spell this summer of uninterrupted time off.
I'm happy and relieved that this log is finished. I hope that years from now the girls can look back and see the trip anew. I'll remember our summer as a magical time. I can always transport myself back to a moment in the Tetons when I asked Grace, "What do you want to do next summer? And she answered, "This. Can we do this again? Because this has been the best summer of my life." Mine too.
As always, here are the slideshows.
Thanks for reading (and thanks Mom for prodding me to finish the series).
We woke to another beautiful, chilly morning. Craig made breakfast and coffee, as he did every morning, and after our warm meal we broke camp. A few nights before I had expressed the feeling that we could just keep going, keep camping, for a much longer period of time. We had reached a groove, or at least Craig and I had. The girls, particularly Julia, were beginning to show signs of fatigue. Yellowstone, with it's wide ranging sites, meant that Julia hadn't been able to take a nap in days. She was burned out, begging us for a hotel nearly every day.
I wandered around the campsite to take a few more pictures, and then we packed the van and got on the road. We planned to exit the park through the Lamar Valley. We had high hopes that we might see an elusive Moose, as our list of animal sightings lacked this creature. We climbed in elevation with snow on either side of the van, and as we began our descent into the valley we were stopped short by an enormous RV which blocked the road. The driver had stopped to get a better view of this:
One last grizzly to bid us farewell. After craning our necks and jostling the girls to get a better view, we continued on down into the valley where herds of bison roamed, mothers and babies, more animals than we could count.
We also managed to see a black bear as he scrambled through the tumbleweed, avoiding the throngs of tourists with cameras in hand, and later we came upon a group of people with telescopes, scouting the cliffs for wolves, another animal that didn't make it on our list. As we exited the park through the Silver Gate at Cooke City, I gave up on seeing a moose, only to be surprised again:
The road we traveled was familiar to me. I had spent most of two summers in this same area learning how to make geological maps (and later teaching new students to do the same). Being in Wyoming produced complicated emotions for me, a longing for goals and pursuits that I'd never capitalized upon, remembering a life that could have taken me in a very different direction. Thankfully, with a squeeze of my partner's hand and a nuzzle from my girls, I recalled the great fortune I have in living this life, with my family, and more love than I could imagine.
Though we only drove about 100 miles that day, it took us seven hours to get to Cody. We decided to splurge with a suite in a motel (don't worry, Julia approved this place even though it wasn't a hotel). There were two pools and a playground. Civilization tasted sweet to Grace and Julia. We did the touristy thing and ate dinner at Buffalo Bill Cody's Irma Restaurant and fell into our soft beds with full bellies.
The next morning we stuck around Cody to visit the Buffalo Bill Historical Center, a complex that houses numerous museums. In particular, I wanted Craig to see the Whitney Gallery of Western Art, and the girls convinced us to stay and visit the Draper Museum of Natural History. This meant we got on the road well after lunch and needed to cover a lot of ground. We wanted to make it over the Bighorn Mountains and east of Sheridan. This made for an arduous day with tempers and tears (and a near stranding in the mountains with an empty gas tank). When we checked into the Days Inn at Gillette, I felt like Julia, ready for a temper tantrum. Hotels with pools do wonders for our family though, and we went to bed eager for the next day. Devil's Tower, here we come.
Here are the pictures from our drive out of the park. No pictures in Cody. I'm not sure why. Also no pictures in the Bighorns, which is a total bummer, those mountains are awesome.
I really needed a shower on June 22nd. That's the first thing I remember about this day. The girls needed to bathe too, so off we went across the park to Canyon Village (home of showers and shops that sell way to much crap to tourists). Craig, being a guy, didn't want or need to bathe. He was quite content with our very chilly outdoor shower, and all I can say is shrinkage!
Showered and laundered we headed south to hike down to the brink of Yellowstone Falls. We dropped 600 feet in elevation in half a mile. It was seriously steep and worth every single step:
In case you're wondering, it gave me the willies to stand so close to the edge of the falls. Of course, Grace and Julia had no fear. On the other hand, once you raised your eyes, the natural eye candy was pretty great:
On our way down, an older man commented about Julia, who was perched on her dad's back: "Reminds me of 20 years ago when I had my son on my back for this very same hike." We heard comments like that a lot on our trip, as older parents and grandparents reminisced about their first experience in the park with their kids. There's an unspoken sense of fraternity among travelers and campers in wild places, an understanding and respect that we share these majestic spaces.
After a lunch on the brink, we hiked back to the top and then drove to the other side to catch a view of the falls from Artist's Point. Julia was really bummed that there was no actual artist at Artist's Point. She was quite sure we had lied to her. I don't even think she cared that the falls were amazing from this side:
Or that we could see the platform where we had stood just an hour before:
Back in the van, we continued south to Mud Volcano, where we watched other tourists get a little too close to a bison:
And we finally ended our day at Yellowstone Lake, where we hung out on the beach, visited the ranger station and ate dinner in a lodge (a highlight for Julia, domesticated little thing that she is).
The next morning was the coldest we experienced. We ate breakfast with the girls in our laps for warmth, then piled in the van to hit the road towards Old Faithful (yes, that same place I complained about in an earlier post). Our first stop was at Artist's Paint Pots, where again, Julia questioned our sanity, as there were no artists around. However, she gave us some slack once she discovered how wonderful mud pots can be! Turns out, vats of bubbling and gurgling mud thrill Julia. We finally found the ONE thing at Yellowstone that she liked. We stayed an extra fifteen minutes so she could sit and stare.
Truthfully, I can understand why she liked them so much. I had the strongest urge to reach out and grab some mud, mold it in my hands and create something. The only problem being that the acids in the mud would liquefy my flesh on contact.
After Craig navigated us through a Yellowstone traffic jam, we made our way to Madison, home of Yellowstone's Junior Ranger Station. Over several days (and numerous locations around the park) both girls had completed their junior ranger paperwork and were eligible to receive badges. They were tongue-tied when the real live Ranger asked them questions, but they passed:
Then it was onto Old Faithful. Why? Grace wanted to participate in the Young Scientist Program (and get another badge), so while Craig and she compiled observations, Julia and I hung out in the lodge and watched Old Faithful do it's thing (we ate some ice cream too and wrote post cards). Three hours later, we were back on the road to our campsite. This was Julia's third day without a nap, so we were treated to another kind of animal encounter on the drive home: overtired small mammal in carseat for too long.
Up next (in another two weeks, who knows) is our last day in the park, followed by our visit to Devil's Tower, Mount Rushmore, and the Badlands (god, I hope I can get it done). Here's the slideshow of all the pictures:
I will quickly go back to June 20 (Father's Day) to record a special memory of mine (sorry no pictures). While Ellen and Julia were taking care of a nap, Grace and I wanted some adventure near the campground. Fortunately there was a trailhead within a quarter mile from our campsite. Grace and I pulled a backpack together that included binoculars, first aid supplies, water, and snacks. We walked over to Soltafara Creek Trail and began our hike.
The weather was perfect, and the trail was nice and lonely. Because Soltafara Creek is nothing more than a creek cutting between two low ridges, there is not much to look at. This means no tourists. However, no tourists also means more wildlife which means big animals like bison may appear in the trail suddenly. This did not happen to us, but it was always a thought in the back of my mind. I wanted to see wildlife, but I did not want any emergency situations where I would have to entrust Grace to run back to camp while I grappled with (i.e., received a mauling from) a bear or bison.
We saw lots of bison fur stuck on trees, indicating they were around somewhere. We also found a big pile of bear scat with loads of fur in it. Later on we found a patch of fur stuck to a tree that was not from a bison. Grace and I both think it was from a grizzly bear, and so being young scientists we collected it to save in our cabinet of curiosities. Grace was trooper, just as I expected. We walked along the trail a ways without seeing anyone. As far as Father's Day goes, it was such a great way to spend my afternoon. All I could hear was the wind blowing in the trees and birds chirping. Those quiet moments of forest solitude may be my absolute favorite thing in the whole world. We probably went about 2 miles in one direction when we decided that we should turn around to head back to camp. Before we headed back however, Grace wanted to treat me to a special adventure she knew I would like.
She suggested we bushwack our way up to the top of one of the ridges to get a better view. She correctly assumed that I had wanted to be doing this all along. There were lots of dead trees that had fallen in the big fire from the late 80's. It was not easy travel, but we climbed up and over big pine trunks and around young trees until we found a nice spot to stop and enjoy nature before turning around. Grace was so proud of herself for coming up with this idea. She explained it was a present from her to me, so I could have a happy day. Well Grace, I had a lovely day with you, and I look forward to more wilderness adventures together. We made plans for our first backpacking trip when she gets older. Grace loves the idea of having all our stuff in a backpack that we get walk around the woods with. I like that idea too.
The skies were blue, and the nights were cold, really cold. We woke each morning to frozen condensation on the tent, and our breath puffed like smoke out of our mouths. Even with the chilly temperatures, we were happy to be sleeping in a tent, side by side.
There are a lot of things that I like to beat myself up about, my inadequacies, if you will. One would think that the stress of such a long trip would magnify this essential part of my personality, and to my great surprise, it didn't. Being outside with the girls, camping, hiking, enduring the weather felt so right, so good. Camping is something I'm really good at. Hiking is something that I'm really good at (even though I don't exercise regularly or at altitude). I grew up in a very rural setting. I spent as much time in the woods as I did indoors, so perhaps none of this is all that surprising. Our trip felt a bit like going home (to a home that hasn't existed for at least 16 years).
On this very chilly morning, we decided to head north to visit Mammoth Hot Springs. Yellowstone is so big and our time was fairly limited (5 nights), so we didn't have the time to indulge in long hikes (not if we wanted to see very much of the park, anyway). Off we went in the van. With narrow roads and wildlife at every turn, a 20 mile drive takes hours. On the other hand, the landscape and wildlife are so breathtaking that time flies.
If you're wondering, it does sound like a the earth is hissing and roaring.
Our next stop was at the Upper Terraces of Mammoth (a place that thoroughly frightened Julia, like much of Yellowstone). Grace and I spent a lot of time wandering along the walkways.
Looking for cool forms, like this twig encased in calcium carbonate:
And mountain bluebirds:
Julia begged us to leave the Upper Terrace. The steam and smell were too much for her. Yellowstone is a stinky place, and Julia, poor kid, had a really hard time at many of our stops.
At the base of the terraces, we found a place to eat lunch. We weren't alone. See the elk beyond Julia?
Wildlife own Yellowstone, so that elk paid little attention to us. She walked even closer:
After lunch, we took a tour of the Lower Terraces (which surprisingly, Julia didn't mind quite as much).
We needed groceries, so as we prepared to leave Mammoth, we stopped at the store. Six dollars for a box of cereal convinced us that we should drive another five miles outside the park to Gardiner, Montana to do our shopping.
As we headed back into the park, Julia asked, "where are we going?"
"Back to camp, kiddo."
"But I don't wanna go back to camp. I hate camping!"
Julia had a love-hate relationship with camping. On a good day, she'd tell you how much she loved to camp. On a day like this one, she would have done anything to stay in a hotel (and not a motel, mind you, the girl knows the difference). This would become a longstanding joke. Later in our trip, after we were done camping, when Julia would misbehave, we would tell her we were going camping, and her behavior would change (for the better) immediately.
Her day wasn't completely ruined though. We made one more stop at Sheepeater Cliffs, and she was able to distract some other tourists with her karate moves. People were driving by and laughing as Julia shouted, "hah" and "acha". I was able to capture just a few seconds of her show:
Meanwhile, Grace and I hiked to the top of the cliffs:
As always, the full slideshow for the day is below.
As our vacation memories dim and our current schedule makes demands, it becomes increasingly difficult to finish this log. Did we take that big trip? When was that? Is anyone reading anymore? Then I feel a little manic because this blog represents the written record of our adventure. I have to finish this.
We arrived at Old Faithful under brilliant blue skies and near 70 degree temperatures. Where was that crappy weather? The stuff that made us change our camping plans and book a cabin at Old Faithful? Oh well, let's go with the flow. Or rather, let's get in line because there are a lot of freaking people here.
Old Faithful is a complex at Yellowstone. It sees more visitors than any other site within the park, and as a result, has a disneylike atmosphere. Up Next: Old Faithful Erupts! Get Your Seat NOW! For those that know Craig and me, you can imagine the discomfort we felt in this setting, as tourist after tourist ambled down the steps of their tour bus, took the obligatory geyser shot, bought a few Yellowstone T-shirts, ate an ice cream cone, and then got back on the bus. I could imagine the tour bus PA system: "And to your left, you will see nature."
Ughh. Well, buck up campers, and let's get our cabin. Only we couldn't get into our cabin, though we were told time after time to "wait just another half hour or so." Instead, we hiked around the basin (in company with 500 other visitors), and we ate ice cream in the lodge (with 100 other people) and generally started to feel sorry for ourselves because this wasn't how we wanted to see the park. After four hours (and two eruptions), we got back in the van to head to a less populated space, which was a whole lot more difficult than we imagined.
Finally, at 5 pm we returned to Old Faithful and received our cabin key. Hopes high, we drove around the back of the complex to a sea of asphalt populated with one room cabins. Upon viewing the cabin for the first time, Julia pronounced what we all were thinking, "I don't like this hotel. I want a new one." Me too kid, but this is where we are staying.
I should say that for those who don't like to camp, the cabins at Old Faithful are entirely adequate. If, however, you would like to make your own meals or like to feel a little closer to nature, this place isn't for you. We did take a walk after dinner (a depressing meal of cereal and cheese and crackers) and found a bison lumbering along the river below our cabin. For a minute, I thought this isn't so bad, but then we got back to our cabin and it was that bad.
What do you do at a time like this? You break camp. As soon as we woke the next morning, we were packing. It was Father's Day, and there was no way we were going to spend another day surrounded by more people than nature. We headed north to a National Park Service Campground in the Norris Geyser Basin, hoping that we would be early enough to get a decent site.
Without a doubt, we managed to get THE BEST site in the campground, which still astounds me, because most people started to grab sites at 7am, and we didn't roll in until 9am. I think Father's Day worked to our benefit. Most families relaxed on that day and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. Our site looked out into a beautiful meadow, and we only had neighbors on one side. After the tent was up, I put Julia down for a nap, and Grace and Craig took a Father's Day hike (a story that he should tell, but included grizzly bear fur). When they returned, we went down the road to tour the geyser basin and were treated to an amazing site: Norris Soldier Fly larvae swimming in a pool of 100 degree water. We're total nerds, larvae excite us.
Below is the slideshow from our first two days in the park (including larvae!)
June 17 The weather we experienced on our hike worsened overnight, and we woke to very chilly temperatures and snow the next morning. We decided to forgo a camp breakfast and drive into the Village and eat in the restaurant. As we nursed our coffees and the girls finished their breakfasts, we decided to give up on a hiking day and make the drive south to Jackson. We hoped to see the new visitors center and get the latest weather info.
The visitors center was well worth the trip, and we spent at least an hour exploring all they had to offer. We also learned that again the weather was taking a turn for the worse. We quickly made the decision to cancel our Yellowstone campsite reservation and secured a cabin reservation at Old Faithful (spoiler alert: one never wants to stay in a cabin at Old Faithful).
Reservation done, we got back on the road and drove into Jackson. Jackson Hole is cool if you're 20, and it might be cool if you're 50, but for us, with two kids and crappy weather, it wasn't a whole lot of fun. We did eat another good meal (thanks, Bunnery), and we got out of town quickly.
As a part of our change in Yellowstone reservations, we would have to stay another night, June 18, in the Tetons. We're really glad we did.
June 18 We woke to beautiful blue skies, and I made pancakes to celebrate our last morning. Once lunches were packed we left the campsite and headed out to hike around Swan Lake and Heron Pond. We had hoped to see a moose, but as usual we were a little too late in the morning for such a sight. We were fortunate to see a number of birds, including migratory Canada geese:
Clark's Nutcracker:
Sand Hill Crane:
Blue Heron, Trumpeter Swan, Ruffed Grouse, and Bald Eagle (none pictured unfortunately), and of course, the American White Pelican:
And while we didn't see any moose, we did find some tracks:
After hiking for 3.5 miles we were also treated with some pretty spectacular views. Just click it, you'll get a much larger image. All told, we hiked nearly 4.5 miles that day. The girls graduated to being full-fledged hikers (well, Julia mostly hikes from on high--on my shoulders). We made it back to camp in time for some (much needed on my part) showers and ice cream, and just before dinner Ellen got to perform a little medical procedure.
When I sliced my finger back in Rocky Mountain, the nurse in Estes Park told me I should return to the ER to have the stitches removed. Ellen and I decided that wasn't necessary. She could do the job:
Don't worry, those scissors are reasonably sterile. Aside from some slight nerve damage (which has fully recovered now), my finger looked pretty good.
That pretty much wraps it up for the Tetons. Below is the full slide show from June 17 and 18, see if you can see snow a couple of pictures.
It has been a long time since I weighed in with the Dad Perspective. My apologies to Ellen for barely assisting with the blog. I'm going to write the posts that details our travels between June 16-18, starting with the 16th. The last time I was in the Tetons, I was 16 years old. To say that a lot has changed since then is an understatement. Like Ellen explained in the previous post, our accommodations were terrific. The tent cabins provided the perfect amount of shelter (for the right price). I was able to build fires in the woodstove, which kept me feeling purposeful. I would even jump down from my bunk at night to keep the stove warm.
The mornings were still chilly, as evidenced by our children:
June 16 Ellen needed a shower today, so we all went down to Colter Bay. Julia, and Grace, and I went to the Native American Museum in the village. A very kind native american artist, who had his materials on display, was very engaged with the girls. He let them play his animal skin drums while he played his flutes. He even made them small necklaces with a couple of very cool (and very old) beads on them.
After meeting up with Ellen we drove to Jenny Lake. From a launch there we ferried across the lake to a trail.
We then hiked up to Hidden Falls and Inspiration Point. The hike was great. We climbed up some pretty steep elevation with Julia on my shoulders most of the time. Grace, on the other hand, demonstrated her skills as a junior mountain goat (the girl can hike!)
The falls were cool but it made Julia a little nervous. The sound and spray were not to her liking.
We moved on to Inspiration point which involved a rigorous climb up into the rocky crags of the Tetons. This is how high we climbed above the boat dock:
And this is us playing around on the rocks:
From the top of Inspiration Point we could see bad weather closing in. Knowing that we had pulled a dunce move and forgot to bring raincoats for ANYONE, we decided to hightail back to the boat dock to catch the next ferry back to our car.
Unfortunately we didn't make it in time. I don't have any pictures of our retreat from Inspiration Point, but it wasn't pretty. By the time we reached the boat dock, thunder and lightning crackled overhead. This meant the ferry service was delayed until 15 minutes after the last peal of thunder. Also, we were not the only ones trying to get back on the ferry. We spent some time castigating ourselves for failing to bring raincoats and then huddled under trash bags someone gave us (no pictures of this pathetic sight). After about an hour waiting in cold rain, sleet and hail, the ferry resumed and we made it back across Jenny lake. The kids stayed dry but Ellen and I were wet and cold. We returned to camp by 2:30 PM and spent the rest of the day making s'mores in the wood stove. We played some games and then as a real treat Grace and Julia watched Toy Story 2 on my computer.
There are so many photos from the Tetons (too many for one post), so the travelogue will be broken down by days.
The Tetons. Sigh. Have you ever been? I remember my first trip as a 20 year old. I fell in love. Some don't like this range, with it's simple hinge along Jackson Lake and peaks towering in a relatively straight line. Not me. The Tetons are majestic in my book.
We arrived at the tent cabins in time for lunch. The girls loooved the accomodations: two log walls, two canvas walls, a canvas roof and wood-burning stove. There was a picnic table outside the tent walls and a bear box. In terms of camping, pretty swanky. In terms of view, pretty amazing:
We settled ourselves, ate lunch, and I laid Julia down for a nap. We were camped near the Colter Bay Corral, so Craig walked Grace over to find out about horse rides (we had planned to take Grace in RMNP, but the weather foiled our plans). In Rocky Mountain, children under eight are allowed to ride with an adult on longer excursions. In Tetons and Yellowstone, those same kids can only take corral rides. We were bummed for Grace, but she didn't know the difference. She thought her horse, Eli, was pretty special.
After her ride, Craig and Grace hiked over to an inlet on Jackson Lake and caught the first glimpse of an American White Pelican.
We would see many more over the next two weeks.
After dinner, we walked into the "village". Colter Bay Campground Village is large enough to make it on most maps. At capacity, over 3000 visitors can stay in the village. There's a laundromat, lodge, restaurant, museum, gift shop, grocery store, and marina. No need is unmet in this facility. Still, if you want a shower, you have to walk to it (that is unless you're staying in a full service cabin or lodge). We wandered down to the marina for some other views:
After running with tails between our legs from RMNP, we finally started to relax a bit. We knew the nights would be chilly, but we had the wood stove to keep us warm. We were certain we would take some great hikes and see lots of wildlife. We were right. The following morning, we headed south towards Moose, Wyoming and saw our first grizzly bear on the side of the road.
Our plan that day was to hike through the morraine up to Taggart Lake. Grace and Julia's plan was to whine and whine and whine a little bit more. Sometimes I'm an idiot as a parent. The kids were hungry. I didn't pick up on their clues. Whining often equals hungry. I assumed that eating two breakfasts would fill them up. Nope. In any case, once their stomachs were full, we made it to the lake without further complaint.
We played in the lake for a long time, enjoying the view:
And relaxing in the sun:
Like any good western day, the clouds started to form and we were run off the mountain by rain. Here's the entire set from those two days. Note that Craig is giving me the finger in a couple of pictures. He's just showing off his stitches.
